


Forehead Kisses

by Yoh_ii



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Codependency, M/M, Mourning Kili, Not A Fix-It, Not a nice fic, Suicidal Ideation, but still with a kind of happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-08 08:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoh_ii/pseuds/Yoh_ii
Summary: Death in the glory of battle was the only acceptable way to die at the hands of another. Not even a quiet death, surrounded by loved ones triumphed over a grisly, glorious death; the tale told for generations to come of bravery and strength. Dwarfs knew that to die fighting- defending- would guarantee a safe passing to Mahal’s halls, where eternal feasting awaited them.





	Forehead Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my Google Docs forever lol it's way too easy to write angst for these two. I really hope I can get more ideas for my happier fic of these two. Maybe inspiration will strike me and I'll finally finish the second part for "Save you with a kiss". Who knows. Anyways! Hope you enjoy! Or...not? >:D

Death in the glory of battle was the only acceptable way to die at the hands of another. Not even a quiet death surrounded by loved ones triumphed over a grisly, glorious death; the tale told for generations to come of bravery and strength. Dwarfs knew that to die fighting- _defending_\- would guarantee a safe passing to Mahal’s halls, where eternal feasting awaited them.

Kili knew this.

Dwarven culture was ingrained in his mind and his very being. He would not have it any other way. Not the peaceful living that Hobbits seem to prefer, or the fancy, horrendously long-lasting lives of the Elves. The race of men was an even worse comparison, a sure death after a mediocre existence. Or so Thorin liked to say whenever given the chance.

So Kili knows pride should be bubbling up in his chest. That the raging, angry sorrow threatening to envelop every fiber of his body has no place under the Mountain, where thousands of his ancestors slumber in their peace. The faces around him portray a much better reaction than his, filled with grim acceptance, but none reflecting the hollowness quickly filling him up.

Before he can think much more about it, he finds his hand moving soft, blond hair out of Fili’s face. A stray braid having shifted when someone else pressed against it. Kili’s fingers stray and carefully run down a cold cheek. Even though he could feel the hard press of it against his own flesh, his mind was unwilling to make the connection.

A life without Fili was not worth living, not even in thought.

Kili could still feel the hoarse scream that came from him, his vocal chords torn from the shrieking sobs that followed it. Seeing a dark, poisoned arrow fly straight at Fili and pierce him, his brother falling to his knees and then the floor without so much as meeting his eyes. By the time Kili was able to cross the scant distance between them, Fili had grown cold. No Tauriel around to heal him like she’d healed him. He failed Fili exactly where Fili had come through for him.

There are dwarves talking around him, bustling around Fili’s stone dais, murmuring low mourning Khuzdul. But all Kili hears are his own echoing screams. All he could feel was a numbness that spread from the center of his chest down to his fingertips where they still rest against Fili’s cheek. A coldness that matched his own, as if all the warmth were leaving him and pouring out of him.

Cradling Fili’s face and pushing it close to his, Kili had prayed with his entire soul to have his brother back. Of course, Fili never stirred, and he would’ve slashed his own neck in that wretched battlefield if Thorin had not been watching.

Kili waited to be killed, cradling his brother’s body. Yet, as soon as life left Fili, the sounds of battle stopped. The hideous creatures fallen, and the rest retreating as the screech of the giant eagles reverberated over them.

The war was won. At the cost of the most golden soul. Far too high a price, in Kili’s eyes. He knew it was selfish grief making him think that no other death was as important as Fili’s; and yet Kili could not find it in himself to care. Could not find even a shred of will inside of him to go on. He’d heard before that when Elves lose the will to live, they will fade into nothing. Kili hopes and prays that the same is able to happen to dwarves.

_Thoughts of a coward_, Thorin would say.

Kili is passed caring what anyone says, whether that be his uncle or anyone left in the world who wasn’t Fili.

No one bothered him as they left the burial underground room, only Thorin calling out to him and only giving up when Kili ignored all five times his name was said.

Was he even Kili without Fili to be part of him?

Leaning down, Kili pressed a shaky kiss to Fili's cold forehead, tears noiselessly running down his face and falling onto the still one beneath his.

"Fili...dearest. I am so sorry I-" Kili tried to say, but his words choked him, his voice hoarse, his throat feeling as though he'd been swallowing sand. With hollow eyes, Kili crawled on next to Fili and curled around the stiff body and laid his hand on the still chest of his brother. Kili didn't understand how his heart kept beating when it was already shattered into so many pieces, unable to ever be put back together. He knew there was nothing good about holding onto his dead so tightly, not letting their soul rest in peace and find eternal sleep.

Kili felt the heat of his body slowly being leeched away the tighter he hugged his brother to him, his breaths slowing down. With a tired sighed, Kili closed his eyes and the screaming in his head finally, _finally_ died down.

\---

When the sun came up, and Thorin went down to the burial chambers under the Mountain, he didn't know what he was expecting. The sight of his two nephews laying on the stone dais sent a tremor of dread through him. As he walked closer, he could see Fili was still in the same position as they left him.

_Of course, dead dwarfs were not able to change positions during the night._

Kili...

Kili was curled tightly around his brother, tears that had undoubtedly been warm now frozen on his cheeks. He was as white and still and cold as his brother, his lax hand stiffly held over Fili's hand. 

Thorin fell to his knees, gripping his face in hands, a shout of agony leaving him. 

_Fili dead, Kili taken with him, Bilbo gone..._

Thorin was now truly...alone.

\---

When he opened his eyes, the sun was shining down on him, the heat of it a shock to his system after the cold he experienced as he fell asleep. Looking around, Kili realized he was not inside the Mountain anymore, but on a grass plain, and not one he recognized. His voice being called in the saddest tone he'd ever heard from his side startled him into looking down.

"Fili!! Fili, you're alive!" Kili shouted, tackling his brother to the ground and hugging Fili tight.

_Fili felt so warm!_

"Kili..." Fili murmured as he returned the hug but then pulled back and held Kili by the shoulders. The look on his face was ferocious, as if he was preparing to go into battle again, "Kili, what did you do?!" he asked, anger and disbelief coating his words.

Kili scowled, eyebrows raised in confusion

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Kili...love," Fili's blue eyes filled with tears as his hands came up to frame Kili's face, "Kili, we're not alive."

Kili froze, eyes widening as he took in the seriousness in his brother's voice. But yet, he could feel his heart beating in his chest, and as he pressed one hand to Fili's he could feel his brother's heart steadily beating against his palm.

"We're breathing though," Kili said in confusion, his head leaning on the hand touching his face. 

Fili nodded, "We are breathing, yes. But we are not in Middle Earth. At least, our spirits are not there anymore," he said with a little hesitation.

"Not...in Middle Earth," Kili nodded, "Ok."

"...Ok?" Fili asked in a whisper.

"We're together. Is there anything else that matters?" Kili questioned, a frown on his face. He reached out and took Fili's hands in his, rubbing the warmth there, bringing the knuckles to his lips and kissing them, "nothing anywhere matters more to me than you, Fili. You know this?" Kili said and asked at the same time.

Fili nodded again, "Yes. I am the same."

Kili smiled, tugging his brother forward by the lapels of his fur jacket. 

"Then nothing else matters, does it?" he asked, smile widening as Fili gave a wordless affirmative by closing the distance between and capturing his lips in a chaste kiss. The swell of emotion swirling inside of him threatened to overwhelm him, but Kili held on, pressing harder into the kiss. One day, when Thorin came to scold them for a lifetime, Kili will remember to apologize. For now, his every sense was filled to the brim with Fili's presence. 

As it should be.


End file.
